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The Bittersweet Taste of Victory	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 37648 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 22
- 23
- 24
The Bittersweet Taste of Victory

Oh what are you really looking for?

Another partner in your life to abuse and to adore?

Is it lovey dovey stuff,

Do you need a bit of rough?

Get on your knees

Yeah turn down the love songs that you hear

'Cause you can't avoid the sentiment

That echoes in your ear

Saying love will stop the pain

Saying love will kill the fear

Do you believe

You must believe

I spy with my little eye

Something beginning with (ah)

Got my back up

And now she's screaming

I know this girl she likes to switch teams

And I'm a fiend but I'm living for a love supreme

When there's no more love in town

This new century keeps bringing you down

All the places you have been

Trying to find a love supreme

A love supreme

Come and live a love supreme

Don't let it get you down

Everybody lives for love

Robbie Williams; Supreme

Chapter twenty-three

With a very satisfied and smug smirk Lord Voldemort leaves Hermione's mind. He has seen all he needs to know and he will deal with that utter fool of a Carrow later, but right now… he has to 'explain' a few things to Hermione. He is waiting till her breathing is no longer erratic and she has somewhat overcome the physical effects of his Leglimency. The girl has closed her eyes and is leaning forward, holding on to her head with one hand. He knows the aftermath is not exactly pleasant, but then again, she should have known better than to work behind his back and nick his personal belongings. He can't believe he hadn't noticed she had it sooner. He was already wondering what took her so long on the research of his eye problem, but it seems she had been reading other stuff as well. He should have noticed. She was taking forever with the book on Everon Jewellery that he allowed her to read.

Her hand leaves her head and she opens her eyes, breathing deeply a couple of times. Within an instance his hand has cupped her cheek and she jerks in shock at the sudden contact. Lord Voldemort lifts her head to meet his eyes again. And he places a knee on the couch to support his weight as he towers over her sitting form, making certain to intimidate her with their proximity. A small, teasing smile graces his snakelike features when she presses herself back into the couch in fright. Yes, she knows she was wrong. Lord Voldemort does not allow people to snoop around his past. He is thoroughly going to enjoy this. There is nothing a little humiliation can't fix.

'You know, darling,' he whispers deviously, staring straight into those wonderful dark brown eyes of hers, 'I would have been more than happy to supply you with an old picture of me had I known it would turn you on so much.'

To his utter delight his whispered statement receives the expected, physiological response from her and he strokes that lovely face of hers. Tormenting Hermione is always so much fun. She is so cute when her cheeks are all flushed from embarrassment. It never ceases to amaze him how utterly dreadful she is in hiding her true emotions and feelings. It's very rare that he can't tell what she is thinking when he looks at her face. She truly is an open book to him. He lets go of her face and boxes her in once more with his hands. Let's see how red her face can get. And he smirks at the thought.

'Close your eyes, Hermione,' he orders softly, revelling in the worried expression that is now visibly present. She really is terrible in hiding her emotions. 'Don't make me assist you,' he adds, gazing at her warningly.

She complies and closes her eyes. 'Good girl,' he purrs and he studies her solemn face.

His magic is pulling him towards her and a part of him wants nothing more than to snog her senseless, but first things first. Its business before pleasure and all those other idiotic phrases made up by those who did not have to live by them. However, this will require his utmost concentration and it will cost pain, severe pain. He clearly remembers how bloody painful it is to achieve. Still towering over Hermione, he leans with his hands on the couch, and he focuses. Every ounce of skill, he has, flares through his body at his command and he closes his own eyes and starts the chant nonverbally. His fingers dig deep into the couch's pillow when the most excruciating pain travels across his neural pathways, but it is a familiar pain and he does not acknowledge it. He is Lord Voldemort. A bit of pain will never stop him, never.

Keeping his mind focused on the task at hand, he repeats the chant again. It's when he feels the shift in his magic, the Force is turning the cells inside of him and his bones seem on fire. He clenches his teeth firmly upon one another waiting for the last bit of it. And it strikes with a vengeance. His skin feels like it is being ripped from his flesh and he begins to regret his rather rash decision to do this. After all, he will have to go through it all again in order to revert back. But it is too late to change his mind and a relieved sigh escapes him when it is over and done with.

He opens his eyes and looks at Hermione, who hasn't moved a muscle or blinked once. This better be worth it. Leaning on his left knee, he takes a hold of Hermione's head and presses his lips on hers, demanding entry into her mouth. Such a delicious woman. He runs his hands through her hair, and they are kissing like there is no tomorrow when he realises she still has her eyes closed. When did she start to comply to his orders so adequately? She never listened before. It is most annoying, since he really doesn't want to leave her luscious mouth. But he will have to if he wants to witness the reward to the ordeal he just went through. He isn't the only one who lets out a disappointed groan when he pulls back slightly.

'Look at me, Hermione,' he whispers with a devilish smirk.

This is going to be entertaining. He has no doubt about that. Not after what he just witnessed in her mind. And he is proven right, because the girl merely stares at him, stupefied.

'What? Speechless?' he asks smiling and he closes her jaw with his index finger. 'That'll be a first.'

'A Glamour Charm?' Hermione asks, but he can tell by the uncertainty in her voice that she doesn't really believe it is what he did.

He shakes his head with an amused smirk on his face. 'Nope.'

Hesitantly, she reaches out to touch his face and he allows her to sate her curiosity. His gaze turns intense when her fingers investigate his nose. Her touch on his skin feels surprisingly different from the times before. Hmmm… he never knew it had altered his sensible nerves. Granger has now moved her hand into his hair. He has to admit he was kind of worried in advance he may have turned bald by now, but he can tell by the way her hand moves through his hair that it is still as thick and voluminous as ever. Though, he has no idea on the colour. He needs to check himself in the mirror later to see if he turned grey already. Those little fingers roaming through his hair are giving him kind of a nice feeling and he leans forward to kiss her again.

'It's not a Disillusionment Charm either,' Hermione says frowning.

'Do you need to talk all the time?' he asks, a bit annoyed that she hasn't immediately started snogging him senseless, because that was the usual female response to his former appearance whenever he paid one his personal attention.

'Your voice is different too,' she says puzzled and she scratches her neck, stopping that splendiferous caress of his hair.

He rolls his eyes. This he should have foreseen. Of course she turns it into an educational assignment. Not what he is going for. He hasn't made that painful transformation to discuss the theory of it.

'Granger, you are completely missing the point of this.'

Now, she snorts. Her responses are beginning to irritate him thoroughly. He wanted to make her feel embarrassed by her reactions to his old appearance, but she is too caught up into her mind, trying to solve the puzzle he has provided her with, that she doesn't even have the decency to go all red, hot and swoon over him. Perhaps he has gotten wrinkles in his face and that is why she doesn't seem affected? He really should have looked in the mirror first himself. A flick of his wrist and he summons one.

'Yes, your voice is definitely lower now,' she adds, giggling when he catches the mirror and checks his own face. 'So it can't be some superficial transformation by a charm or a spell. Did you use a Potion of some sort?'

He is about to ask her if she heard him drink something, but she already casts that aside as well before he has time to respond.

'No, you wouldn't have needed magic to drink a Potion,' she adds thoughtful. 'So it has to be some other intricate, something more invasive…'

In the back of his mind, Lord Voldemort hears Hermione speculate on the possibilities, but he is kind of preoccupied with staring at his own reflection. It is kind of startling to him how little he changed. Sure, there are some spots of grey in his old pitch-black hair colour, but his pale skin doesn't look a day older than when he altered his appearance. Maybe it hasn't aged, because he Transfigured it? Odd … but an interesting side-effect. It is something worthy of examining a bit further, before he will revert back into his other self. All and all he feels that he still looks dashingly cute and handsome, so that isn't the reason for the broad's ample reaction.

'Transfiguration Syndrome!' Hermione shouts triumphant, jerking him out of his little 'mirror mirror on the wall' episode.

Smirking, he looks at the clever witch. 'What about it?' he asks calmly, tossing the mirror away.

'You had Transfiguration Syndrome,' she says, watching him through narrowed eyelids.

'So?' he shrugs. She is on the right track, but he is kind of curious whether she will figure it out on her own.

'You Transfigured yourself into that?' she says puzzled. 'But why? Thought this wasn't scary enough?' and she folds her arms over each other mockingly.

'Granger, you have no idea how much people base their first reaction on looks alone. I can tell you some very interesting stories about the different effects this face receives au contraire to my other one. Especially in the female population,' he adds mischievous.

Now, she finally has the decency to blush. He adores those reddened cheeks of hers. They're such a gorgeous illustration of how much he is affecting her. He caresses them and moves his hand to the base of her skull. He will enjoy taken her like this.

'But you couldn't have done a mere Transfiguration,' she interrupts his plans.

'Couldn't I?'

'No, a Transfiguration alone will only allow you to stay in an altered form temporarily and if you change to often you are subject to the disease. And you've been like …' she halts, obviously not knowing a polite manner to describe it, 'thatfor ages.'

'Maybe I took one of my illustrious Transfiguration short cuts,' he replies, mocking Dumbledore's statement in his file.

He sees the recognition in her eyes and … Sweet Merlin, she was annoyed when she read Dumbledore's comment? This positively delights him. He knew it. He knew it was only a matter of time, before she would fall and become his, forever.

'You should read what he wrote in your file, darling,' he adds, before she has a chance to respond. 'Though, Dumbledore really wasted his time by trying to warn them not to hire me for a position in the Department of Mysteries. It's not like I ever wanted to become a lackey there.'

'No, because Merlin forbid, then you would have to share the knowledge you obtained,' Hermione says sarcastically, shaking her hands in the air and tilting her head backward to illustrate how preposterous of an idea that concept is.

He laughs loudly. When it reaches his ears, he notices it sounds differently. It's by far not as cold and high-pitched as his normal laugh. It's frankly not an eerie laugh at all and it disgusts him. Oh well, this is only a temporary situation.

'You know me quite well, dear,' he smoothly says to Hermione, capturing her lips.

Hmmm… she tastes so much better now. His long, slender fingers move over her body. She feels nicer in his hands as well. Her hands run through his hair, massaging his skull, while he moves his hand up the inside of her thigh. They moan simultaneously and it arouses him. He has to have her right now. In one prompt and accurate move, he lowers Hermione on the couch and places his body on top of hers. Merlin, she feels so good underneath him.

'The baseline!' she shouts in his mouth and he groans in frustration.

Hermione pushes him away. Excited, she has found the solution. 'You've found a way to change the Transfiguration Baseline. It's the only way to stay permanently into a form that isn't originally yours. Setting a new baseline will avoid the occurrence of the Syndrome by removing the obligation to return back to your old self.'

He nods approvingly and proud, even though he rather has her move those lips to satisfy him at the moment. But she is the most intelligent witch he has ever met. She could be the offspring of Mrs Cole and he would still desire her.

'Did you reset the baseline before Transfiguring your appearance or after? Because you really needed to…'

'Hermione,' he interrupts her passionate rant. 'This,' and he points to his newly found handsome face, 'is a temporary situation. Let's not waste it on debating the foundations of Transfiguration.'

'Oh,' she says somewhat disappointed.

He isn't completely certain she is feeling disappointed due to his physical change being temporary or because of his reluctance to discuss the theory behind his altered appearance. Maybe it's a bit of both? But his ego doesn't feel like taking that to the test as of now, since there is too big a risk of it becoming a humiliating experience for him. He will just have to occupy her mind with something else. A vicious grin accompanies that thought.

'Don't worry, Hermione, I am going to keep you quite busy.'

His arms slither around her waist and he spins them from the couch and Apparates away to his bedroom. Vertically again, he holds her close and smiles down on her. It's not a pleasant smile and it does not forebode kind actions on his end. For he is Lord Voldemort. And Lord Voldemort always gets what he wants. Always. They kiss extensively as he tracks her spine with his hands; one hand is slowly making his way upward while the other goes down. Finding the right vertebrae, he halts and enjoys this little scheme he set up for Hermione. The vulnerability she has shown to his handsome features will be nothing, nothing compare to this. It will be the combination that will bring her to her knees, literally.

He smirks.

Applying Sex Magic directly into the nervous system is an art of its own, one of the darkest out there. So naturally, he knows all about it. And he is going to relish doing this to someone who has a magical compatibility to him. He wonders briefly about the effects it may have on Hermione, since the magic is rather potent when administered and he had witches die on him before. But he is about to find out. His fingers are massaging the bone structure around her spine as he finds the nerves' ends and presses down. He closes his eyes in delight and savours the moment before casting the charm nonverbally, without a single warning. His reward is enormous.

Hermione, who was battling with his tongue ferociously, gasps and crashes into his body. He feels her arms tightening her hold of him as she desperately seeks for some support to her no doubt overwhelming feelings. He is not supporting her. He wants her to yield. He wants her on her knees where she belongs. This Mudblood will stop fighting him tonight. Lord Voldemort has stopped kissing her and is looking down on the witch in front of him with a distinct leer on his face as he feels an incredible boost of power from subduing her. He is her master and she will be brought down by him tonight. He is delighted by the prospect, while he feels Hermione's trembling body against him. It arouses him and he wants her to do something about his ache.

But the blasted woman is still standing upright. It's when inspiration strikes and he decides on shifting the magic inside of her from her own to his. The major jolt of his magic pushes her over the edge. He hears her scream when her legs become feeble, her knees buckle and she crashes down, unable to keep herself upright anymore. Finally ... she is on her knees before him. He can feel her desperation seep through the manner in which she clings to his legs, the way she presses her shaking body into him in pure uncensored desire. Sex is now sipping through every pore of her skin. It has become her entire essence of being through the charm he cast. He knows she is now totally depended on him. At his mercy so to speak, because Sex Magic drains the body's resources fully. It overrules any other function, including the vital ones to survival.

He has killed with this charm, laughing, while the person in front of him became more desperate and exhausted by the minute, because he denied them their much needed physical contact with him. He had said victims do unspeakable things to others by giving them a flare of false hope that he would alleviate their suffering and allow them to touch him, which he never did. It was always incredibly entertaining and he usually used the charm to satisfy his inner circle of Death Eaters. Some of them were pretty fond of the needy victims; though they never understood it was not them the victims were needy for and Lord Voldemort never felt the need to explain the aspects of the charm he cast to his stupid followers. One thing was sure though, those were always pleasurable kills, always.

However, he will not kill tonight. Hermione will feel his power and submit to it. She will do whatever he asks of her as he generously grants her access to what she needs. The physical contact with him is what she is now depending on for survival. It never ceases to amaze him how nature quickly adapts to situations as these. Hermione does not know what he has done, but instinctively she clings to him. Her kneeling legs are placed on the outskirts of his, so her body can be as close to him as possible. Her arms are wrapped around his thighs and her head is pressed sideways against his hips, while her shivering becomes more violently with the passing of time. She senses it is contact with his body that she needs… that she desires…

But he knows her agony will increase if the contact is not skin on skin and they are both still very much dressed. Condescendingly, he places his hand on her head. And he is patting her as if she were a pet or a little child, sending little jolts of his magic into her with that same, continuing leer on his face, while she becomes more and more vocal with her desperate little moans. A wave of his hand and her clothes are gone. She will feel she is his property as she services him. And he does like the appropriate height her head is on at the moment.

'While you are down there, Mudblood,' he spats, enjoying the manner in which he can screw around with her mind too while she is in this condition, 'make yourself useful.'

And he tilts her head backward, so it is in front of his cock. He knows he is still fully dressed and that it will be hard for Hermione to undress him in her current condition, but she will just have to manage. She needs him more than he does her. He can feel how unsteady she is when she lets go of his legs with her hands in an uncertain way and moves them to unbutton the lower parts of his robes. Her hands are shaking and she is failing miserably at the task at hand as he expected. So he grabs a hold of her hair firmly and she yelps as he jerks her head backward forcefully.

'Get a move on, witch,' he sneers.

He wants her to beg for his assistance in the task he has given her. She will acknowledge the full force of his dominance over her, before he will help her out. He watches Hermione blink several times at her inability to unbutton his robe, because of her body's malfunctioning. She almost crashes down to the floor, but he has a tight hold of her hair and is not letting go. He sees the realisation that she needs help dawn on her features, but she is pretty stubborn and keeps her mouth shut for a long time. Not that it bothers him; he is quite comfortable standing there with his hand around her hair. He uses his free hand to brush through his own. It feels nice having hair again. It really does.

'Please,' Hermione begs. 'I can't do this.'

She looks at him quite helplessly and he relishes the sight. Beautiful. He cups her cheek with his hand and Hermione closes her eyes at their physical contact. When he withdraws his hand, he smiles at the desperation and realisation in her wonderful eyes. She really is smart for figuring this out so quickly. Most people, he used the charm on, died without understanding why they graved his touch. However, now that she knows he won't have to explain her predicament to her anymore and he can make her humiliate herself before him just a bit longer.

'Do you require my assistance to suck my cock, Mudblood?' he asks joyfully and exceptionally rude on purpose.

Hermione blinks, shivering. She stares at him, clearly distraught. 'Yes,' she whispers.

'Yes?' he repeats, frowning, since he misses something in that response.

'Yes, my Lord,' Hermione says a bit louder, and he finds her irresistible when he sees the humiliation shine through her eyes.

'Very well, my doll,' he says teasingly. 'I suppose I can help you with your need.'

A flick of his wrist unbuttons his lower robes and his member becomes available to Hermione. She starts sucking on it like her life is hanging in the balance, which in a way it is, he supposes. The powers of the Sex Charm are beginning to enter his body due to their intimate contact, but he is not at risk here. He only feels the pleasurable effects of the charm and they are quite remarkable. He will have to do this again, because she is very diligent with her mouth right now, more so than she was before when she pleased him. He moans and shifts his weight on his feet when she does something with her tongue that he likes a lot. A sharp intake of breath escapes him when she takes him so far in her mouth that she practically gags of her own volition.

'Yessss,' he hisses, satisfied while he comes to completion in the back of her mouth. 'My dear, you were born to serve me.'

He leans his head backwards and groans out of pleasure with his eyes closed. She really is something. He notices she swallows all of him, and pleased with her performance, he looks down on the desperate, little witch. A harsh pull on her hair and she is on her feet again. Silently, he places his hands on her naked body and follows the contours as he locks her eyes with his. She is still suffering the effects of the charm and he can tell she likes the contact, no needs the contact, and wants to expand on it. However, she is submissive enough to leave the initiative where it belongs … with him. It entrances him and he leans towards her face, blowing his breath against her skin, making her close her eyes as she exhales.

'I'm beginning to think you like this, Hermione,' he whispers smoothly and he pulls her trembling figure against his still clothed body.

He feels her arms starting to move around him, but he will not allow her any initiative and he quickly catches her lower arms. Her eyes snap open and he captures her attention.

'You were doing so well, my pet, don't ruin things now. I don't want to punish you for misbehaving. Is that clear?'

Hermione nods. Voldemort tilts his head at her silent compliance, but he decides he can live with it for now and follows the contours of her arms further down. His long slender fingers can reach around her wrists fully, but he moves on to her hands and lifts them so he can place their palms against each other and lace his fingers with hers in an intimate gesture. Gracefully, he moves towards her, lifting her hands up until they are next to her head. When their bodies collide, he feels the shiver that runs through her. Slowly, he coaxes her to move backward until she hits the bed and he pushes her downward, coming to rest on top of her, leaning on their still joined hands that he placed beside her head. He gazes into those dark brown eyes and it is almost like they are darkening on the spot.

'Do you want me to take you?' asks Voldemort.

He sees her looking at him, considering what the right response would be. 'Yes, my Lord,' Hermione says, desire sipping through her veins.

He squeezes her hands in his and watches her expectantly. 'Let's not get boring, shall we dear? Why don't you try the real title you should use right now?'

Hermione swallows in discomfort, before she speaks rather hoarsely. 'Yes, master.'

'Very good, my dearest, you are finally learning your rightful place, aren't you?'

Grinning, he waits for the response.

Hermione blinks. 'Yes, master,' she repeats submissively. 'I live to serve you.'

He thinks it is rather slippery of her to add that, especially since he can tell she isn't exactly honest at the moment, but still… she is demure enough and she did service him quite nicely before. And he needs her alive, so he focuses his magic on his hands to cast his clothes away. He is smiling at Hermione as she feels the magic in their joined hands and bucks towards him in reflex. The moment his naked skin comes in contact with hers, she inhales violently; her eyes flutter shut and her entire body moves toward him. He captures her luscious mouth with his and roams it with his tongue. The Sex Magic is affecting her thoroughly, because she practically comes from this alone. She is wrapping her legs around his waist to draw him inside of her, while her hands try to break free from his grasp. He breaks the kiss and stares at her heatedly. He enjoys her needy expression, the way she pants and breaths for him, the way her body moves to sate its desire.

'The Dark Arts can be very enthralling, wouldn't you agree, Hermione?' he says smirking. 'The pleasures it donates to those who master them fully. I can teach you everything, my dear. All you have to do is surrender to me completely.'

She groans in frustration and bucks against him. He throws his head back and laughs. His hair is falling across his face as he looks back down at the woman beneath him. 'Impatient one, aren't you?'

He uses his magic to arouse her even further as he casts spells through their joined hands. Her body is now thrashing underneath him wildly and she is begging him to enter. Her very creative wording in her pleas amuses him sincerely and he definitely has doubts about the validity of the Sorting Hat's choices now. Finally, he takes pity on the fiery Gryffindor and she cries out loud when he enters her with a smooth and harsh stroke. Not giving her time to adjust, he starts pumping back and forth inside of her in a manner that would make the majority of women want to get away from him desperately.

But Hermione becomes more vocal by the second, screaming for more and meeting him halfway so his trusts impact even harder. He already knew she was a little hellcat in the sack, but this … this is astonishing even to him. He'll have to use that charm again. If he can still remember it after he is done here, because by Merlin that woman is trying to fuck his brain out. They reach their respective orgasms simultaneously and he collapses on top of her, perspiring heavily. That was one deliciously executed fuck. He rolls to the side of her and caresses her skin while looking her directly in the eye.

'No goody-two-shoes wizard will ever make you feel this way, Hermione,' he smoothly says. 'And you want to feel this way all the time, don't you?'

Now that she had her orgasm the Sex Magic is done working and he can tell that she has regained some form of control over herself again. However, her lack in denying his statement says it all to him. He is winning this battle. She wants to be with him. She just is refusing to acknowledge it to herself. He kisses her mouth once more before withdrawing and leaving the bed in all his nude glory. He feels like snacking now.

The next day he stands in the bathroom looking at his own reflection. He can't believe he has a couple of grey hairs already. Grey represents old and old represents death and that is simply unacceptable. Lord Voldemort will not die; never, ever. Maybe he shall pull them out. He picks up a grey tuft and watches it irritated when a soft chuckle sounds from the bathroom's doorway. Shocked, he removes his hand, but it is already too late. She saw what he was doing. Damn that aggravating woman. Does she have to notice everything? She's probably the reason his hair is turning grey in the first place. Angrily, he glares in her direction, but that only seems to heighten her amusement even further.

'Are you making fun of me, Granger?' he utters threateningly.

She snorts. 'I wouldn't dream,' she replies, but there is a distinct mocking undertone present in her voice.

'See, this is exactly why I have no use for these features,' he growls. 'Or this voice.'

'It's not the voice. It's what comes out of it that scares people,' Granger retorts dryly. 'Besides I am not making fun of you. You merely caught me by surprise. I never took you for the vain type, considering what you normally look like,' Hermione says, walking towards him with an annoying grin on her face.

'This is death,' he hisses, correcting her foolish assumptions.

She raises her eyebrows and halts beside him, resting her hand on his arm. 'I think it makes you look distinguished,' she says softly, pinching his arm reassuringly before disappearing behind the shower curtain.

Surprised, he stares in the direction of the shower. Why does he, all of the sudden, feel a whole lot better? He shakes his head to get rid of the damn emotion. 'You have until the end of today to find the solution to my eye colour issues and I better not find you doing anything else anymore,' he hisses threatening, not wanting to acknowledge the influence Hermione had on his state of being.

A head filled with clouds of shampoo peeks around the corner of the curtain. 'You mean that isn't due to your Transfiguration?' she asks innocently.

Too innocently. Her eyes widen when he swirls over there and traps her naked body up against the wall with his fully clothed one. Not caring that the water is now pouring down on his robes. 'What have you found?'

She gulps.

His right hand wraps around her shampoo-filled hair and he gives it a firm tug. 'Don't make me ask you again, Hermione,' he snarls in her ear. 'I've been very lenient to your indiscretion yesterday, but I won't have you make a fool of me and my generosity unpunished continuously.'

And to illustrate his point, he Crucios her briefly. The feeling of her naked body writhing and twisting against him in pain excites him, especially when she rubs against his privates. And he feels his blood starting to flow to much more pleasurable parts of his body than his brain. He is now certain that his Transfiguration had an effect on his sensible nerves, because he is far quicker aroused than normally. Only the screaming right next to his ear is kind of deafening, so he lifts the Cruciatus Curse with a disappointed groan. Watching the girl expectantly, he waits for the answer to his question, while the pouring water from the shower is making his black robes become thoroughly soaked and they are beginning to cling to his thin body annoyingly.

'It's from the Amulet,' she whispers frightened.

'Continue,' he barks, ignoring the rise underneath his clothes with great difficulty.

'But I don't understand all of it, yet,' she says demure, looking at him with worry spread all over her lovely features.

Aroused, he gazes down at her submissive appearance. The water of the shower is cascading down on them, while she lowers her eyes in surrender. Is that little Gryffindor playing him? He pulls her head backward by her hair, so she has to meet his eyes again when he cups her wet cheek with his free hand and rubs her lips with his thumb. Hermione opens her mouth and starts to suck on his thumb, anticipation in her eyes. Oh she is definitely playing him. But he doesn't mind this at all. However, what she is doing there to his thumb is something he will greatly appreciate her doing to another part of his body. So let's see how creative she is willing to get to make him stop questioning her. Slowly, he leans towards her mouth with his and he removes his thumb. Teasingly, he halts his mouth inches away from hers as his hand travels over her wet body, pinching a nipple roughly which causes her to jerk in response.

'Tell me what you do know,' he orders smoothly against her lips, letting go of her and placing both his hands on either side of her head. He is still completely towering over her, but they are no longer having any physical contact, since he stepped back a bit. He is granting her the freedom to move her body as she pleases. But that freedom better be used in a manner that is satisfactory to him or he will be very disappointed. And that is something, which is never advisable for anyone to let happen.

The water from the shower is falling in small streams from his hair. It is rather strange to have the feel of wet hair against his skin again. It sorts of distracts him a bit and he moves his hand to get it to stop sticking to his forehead. His hand falls on Hermione's, whom had suddenly moved her hand there a bit earlier. She halts her movement as his fingers intertwine with hers and he squeezes her hand briefly.

'May I?' she whispers.

A small incline of his head is all the response he gives and he lets go of her hand, placing his hand back against the wall, curious about what she will do. Hermione strokes his hair gently out of his face and for some inconceivable reason that sends shivers down his spine. Her other hand takes a hold of the back of his skull as she closes the distance between their bodies. Their lips meet and she moves her tongue inside his mouth cautiously, asking for permission with her eyes. He allows her access and gazes down at her intensely when she starts to explore his mouth with her tongue. At first she is gentle and careful, circling her tongue around his, while her hands are stroking through his wet hair. But soon her kisses turn more passionate and she has a firm grip on his head as she sucks on his tongue fiercely. He feels like grabbing her and pinning her up against the wall, but he refrains himself and allows Hermione to lead this time. He is not disappointed.

Her hands move down from his hair to his body and she starts to fumble on the buttons, but when they won't budge, because she isn't exactly having her eyes on them, she rips open his robe, heatedly. Buttons fly through the air and clatter noisily to the ground as Hermione pushes her body into his making him stagger backwards into the shower curtain. He tries to help her with getting his clothing of him, but she slaps his hand away and he arches an amused eyebrow at her. However, a surge of magic surrounds him and his wet robes are gone in an instance. The nice hot water is not the only thing heating his lean body up when Hermione pushes him into a wall violently. He has no time to be surprised about her strength, because she is all over him in no time and he gasps when she strokes his length with her hand. Perhaps he shall have to question her some more in the future, if this is her diversion tactic.

Perhaps he shall question her right now. He groans when she sucks on his nipples. Maybe later… A pulsating longing fills him as Hermione grinds her hips against him, causing his erection to press into her belly. He wants to be inside of her, to feel her hot sweet pussy clamp around his cock. With a smooth move, he turns the tables on them. He twirls them around forcefully. A squeal leaves Hermione's lips as he crushes her delightful, little body against the wet tiles on the wall, lifting her from the ground, forcing her to wrap her legs and arms around him. Their foreheads collide and they stare at each other heatedly and silently. He smirks.

'Tell me, witch,' he hisses, grabbing her hips firmly with his hands. 'Do you really think these antics of yours will stop me from obtaining the answers to my questions?'

And with a violent stroke he pushes forward, while pulling her toward him at the same time, making certain to burry his cock inside of her as deep as possible. She screams in a mixture of pain and delight, so he keeps himself there; forcing her to continue to experience the depth of his considerable length inside of her. The wetness he feels down there is surely not from the water and her hips are making futile attempts to buck against him. He experiences the short, jerked movements against his hips in delight, but he is not accommodating her.

'Answer me, Hermione.'

A sly smile makes it to his face when he sees she has totally forgotten the question. 'Tsk… tsk… tsk…' he clicks with his tongue, disapprovingly. 'It seems you need a bit of help remembering. You see, Hermione,' and with that he gives her a short burst back and forth inside, until they're in the same position, 'you seem to be under the mistaken impression that fucking me…,' another violent rocking motion with his hips makes the girl cry out loud as he hits a vulnerable spot inside of her, '…will make me forgot I have questions that require answering.'

He whips out his wand and presses the tip of it in her side. With a swift brush, he moves it upwards across her skin, and she writhes against him as he singes her skin. He loves how her naked body's contracting at the pain, and how those contractions make him feel inside of her. She becomes quite tight when she's in pain, deliciously tight. So he singes her skin again with the tip of his wand.

'As you can see, Hermione, I am perfectly capable of doing two things at once. So what have you not told me about my eye colour change?'

'I don't …' she waits and bites her lip. 'I have trouble understanding it fully. I need more information.'

He sends her a wicked smile. Even though he knows she is quite a perfectionist. Even though he thinks she probably has been waiting until she can give him a full report all at once. No matter all those considerations, he will punish her for this lack of compliance and he will enjoy her punishment tremendously. A flick of his wand takes care of Hermione's insides for him. He sees the girl's eyes widen in fear as she must notice how he has not only made her tighten around him, but has also made her quite dry. It won't be at all pleasurable for her if he moves now and he can tell she knows it by the apprehensive manner in which she is eyeing him.

'Talk,' he orders. 'Or…' and he starts to move.

'No! Please!' Hermione shouts.

A vicious laugh leaves his lips, but still, he halts expectantly.

'Well,' she starts hesitantly, 'there is some link, which I need to study more upon, between the eyes and the soul. So when the Amulet activates it not only targets the soul, but also, I think indirectly, your eyes.'

He gazes down into her dark brown eyes. She isn't lying. For a split-second he thought she already knew the complete answer, but she doesn't. And what she has told him makes sense. It is in the line of what he was thinking himself as well. He relaxes and whirls his wand at her again, so she will be more comfortable around him when he moves. Quickly, he takes them both to ecstasy. When she is panting and shaking against him underneath the still pouring shower, he crushes his mouth on hers to mark her as his completely. She gasps for air and is watching him warily as he withdraws from her fully.

'It's not only my eyes who are changing in colour, dearest. You better take that along in your research too, if you hadn't considered it already.'

'I have a feeling the book on Everon Jewellery will explain it all,' she whispers.

'Let us hope so,' he calmly states. 'You have, after all, until tonight to find it. I've been patient with you long enough.'

Lord Voldemort pats her on the cheek and stalks away, whipping his wand around to change into a new set of dry, black robes. After that, he uses a Glamour Charm to alter his features into his familiar snakelike one and he casts a Sound Pitching Charm on his vocal cords, because he is going to have a nice chat with Amycus Carrow about handing student files to prisoners. And he is not inclined to show his true self to his stupid followers. Next thing you'll know, they will start to revolt against him, thinking he is human and fallible. He really doesn't need them getting any ideas with those minuscule brains of theirs.

Lord Voldemort steps through the soundproof secret passage into the Headmaster's Office and is greeted with a delightful scenery. Amycus Carrow is writhing and twisting on the floor, while screaming his lungs out in agony, because Mulciber is Crucio-ing him into insanity. The other Carrow, Alecto, lies crumbled up in a heap against the wall and next to her unconscious body stands Eveline Mulciber. She has folded her arms over each other and is staring at the curled, contorted figure of Carrow with the same gleam of satisfaction and hatred in her eyes as her husband. Lord Voldemort raises his eyebrows and scratches his neck. No one has even noticed his arrival. They are too much involved in their private little matters. However, he does not condone these kinds of actions without his explicit approval.

'Expelliarmus,' he lazily waves.

Mulciber's wand flies into his hand and it turns eerily quiet in the office. 'My Lord,' Mulciber says, kneeling immediately and so does his wife.

'What is the meaning of this, Mulciber?' he calmly asks. 'I was under the impression you and your wife were taking a long holiday abroad.'

'Master, Master… they attacked me,' Carrow says panting, before kissing the hem of his robes.

'I did not give you permission to speak, Amycus,' he hisses menacingly, and he plants a harsh kick in the ribcage of the man, making him roll away gasping for air. 'You're unfortunate, they haven't killed you yet. Mulciber?'

'My Lord, as Hogwarts' Headmaster, this man was entrusted with, and responsible for, the safety of my son, and now, Suriano is no more. And Carrow,' Mulciber spats, 'doesn't want to explain what happened. So I thought I'd help freshen up his memory.'

'What?' Voldemort asks furiously. Had someone dared to attack a Death Eater's child in his castle and succeeded in killing it? A child of one of his first and most loyal followers? He whirls his wand towards Amycus. 'You better start talking fast, Carrow, because this is the second blunder, you've made in a short while, that comes to my attention.'

'I don't understand how it could have got in, Master,' Amycus responds fearful. 'I had not allowed access to any dementors in this castle and they couldn't have got in on their own merit. Besides, nobody has seen one.'

Voldemort frowns. Dementors?

'So you claim this castle is and was dementor free?' Eveline hisses to Amycus, ignoring the warning glances and no shaking head of her husband. 'So we are just imagining that my son turned into an empty shell with no more thoughts, feelings and emotions of his own. This is the lousy excuse you're given us! That they couldn't have been there!' she hollers. 'Then explain to me, Amycus, why he is showing every sign in the textbook of having received a dementor's kiss! And I know you are the only one, who could have granted them access!'

The woman screeches on ferociously. Normally, Lord Voldemort would have stopped her by now and punished her for interrupting him, but her behaviour gives him some time to consider the situation. He is pretty certain he now knows whose soul the Devil's Book had taken, because Carrow is telling the truth. This castle has been made dementor-proof. Rodolphus took care of that quite adequately.

However, he is not planning to share the fact with the Mulcibers that he sacrificed their son's soul to safe Hermione's. A dementor gone astray is a far more convenient explanation for him. He looks into the direction of Alphonse Mulciber. The man is trying to stop his wife from ranting at Carrow, before she invokes his wrath. Mulciber is a most trustworthy, loyal, adequate Death Eater and not nearly as dim-witted a follower as Carrow. He will make a far better Headmaster. And Lord Voldemort has had quite enough of Carrow's continued mishaps. Giving Hermione his file, of all things in the world. Not to mention the man's long and drooling welcome speeches are a disaster to sit and listen to every year. He has come to a decision.

'That is quite enough, Eveline,' Lord Voldemort says quietly. 'What do you want done to Carrow?'

A whimper escapes the man on the floor. 'But my Lord… I haven't…'

'Silence, Carrow!' Voldemort snarls. 'You have irked me enough. You and your continuous stupidity. If you can't explain how the dementor got in when Eveline is quite right in saying you are the only one who could have granted it access, then perhaps you can explain how come Hermione Granger has been reading a student file.'

'My Lord?' Carrow asks confused. 'She said you needed it.'

'And you believed her?' Voldemort snarls, shaking his head over the amount of dumbness on the floor before him. 'You didn't feel the need to verify her request with me?'

'Master, you were busy questioning the Smiths,' Amycus says desperate. 'I didn't want to disturb you with such an unimportant, futile affair. It was just an old file of some halfblood wizard no one has ever even heard anything about. This Tom Riddle bloke is probably dead anyway.'

Alphonse Mulciber's head snaps up in surprise at hearing the name in question. From the corner of his eye, Lord Voldemort notices that Mulciber is now monitoring the exchange between Carrow and him with even more interest and a large amount of glee. The glee makes sense. After all, this particular Death Eater is one of the few people out there, who still are aware of his other identity. It is another reason to give Mulciber the position of Headmaster. He can monitor him a lot more closely here than in his other job. Besides, Mulciber will be a lot more fun to have around. The man isn't a complete dork and utter bore like Carrow.

'I see,' Voldemort responds quietly to Amycus. 'You just had to be so retarded to buy Hermione's mere implication that I would punish you if you interrupted me or if you didn't hand her the file expediently. Well, I suppose your fear of invoking my wrath has just become a reality.'

He turns to back to the Mulcibers. 'So Eveline,' Voldemort asks amused, 'what strikes your fancy?'

'We'd like to make him suffer ourselves, Master,' Eveline responds humble.

Questionably, he monitors Mulciber. Yes, the man can certainly perform in that area. And it will give him the opportunity to finish his business with Achilles Smith. He's getting quite tired of hearing him scream, and he plans to test out the curse, he used on Sir Murdoch, to see if it really was the man's age or something else that caused the curse to kill where it shouldn't have. Whatever the outcome, he will make sure Achilles dies in a horrific manner today.

'That is acceptable,' he responds slowly. 'However, Alphonse … the outcome of your performance better be, that Mr Carrow and his sister over here will never bother me with their presence ever again. They have both failed to follow my orders to my satisfaction continuously and I am done explaining myself. When you are done with them, wait here. I have some career changes to talk about with you and your wife.'

'Yes, Master,' the Mulcibers say simultaneously, making him nod approvingly.

Yes, this way he won't have to go looking for a new DADA and Muggle Studies teacher. They will do just fine. And Lord Voldemort Apparates away to the Ministry. He is certain his business with the Carrows will be taken care of quite thoroughly. Now, he has to get rid of that other nail on his coffin. After which Malfoy can give him a report on the situation with the elusive Figg woman.

Lord Voldemort has made quite a day of it in London. It turns out that he wasn't too tired of hearing Smith scream after all, so he took his time in killing the man. In between that, he scolded Lucius for his lack in progress in finding the Figg wench and he convinced the Mulcibers in taking the jobs at Hogwarts by contacting them through the hearth. Yes, it thoroughly has been a productive day and the end isn't nearing, because Hermione will now have to tell him what is causing his abysmal eye change.

He Apparates straight into the study and stares at the woman that doesn't even blink upon his sudden arrival. Apparation isn't exactly quiet, but she is just sitting on the couch again, reading vigorously. He narrows his eyelids, while undoing the charms that hide his 'Tom Riddle' features. Something is off here. He has been gone for an entire day and there isn't a single glass or plate on the table to suggest she ate or drank anything. Come to think of it, that has been the situation he found her in whenever he saw her reading the last couple of days, unlike before when there was always this automatically refilling bottle of pumpkin juice standing beside her. He stalks towards Hermione and looks at the book she is reading. The book, she is almost halfway through. It's that book on Everon Jewellery she requested. But that was ages ago. Even if he takes into account her wasting her time on his file, surely, she would have to have finished this book by now. Especially, considering that her speed in reading is quite astounding.

'Have you even eaten?'

She jerks in fright. And he grins. At least she is still responsive to his voice, but he notices her confusion when she looks at the clock. So she lost track of time too. That is another disturbing symptom. Let's see if she will add another, and he frowns when she does.

'No, but I am not hungry,' Hermione says quietly and she continues to read.

Not hungry after not eating for an entire day and immediately starting to read again. Make that two symptoms. He lifts her chin and gazes into her eyes. Yes, her pupils are darting back down in an attempt to continue reading. Rapidly, he snatches the book away from her.

'How long have you been reading this book?' he asks quietly.

'I am almost finished,' she replies, holding out her hand.

'Did you eat yesterday and the day before that? Or did that slip your mind like it did today?' he demands, tossing the book back and forth in his hands. He notes she follows the motion with her eyes. This is not good. He should have examined this book himself before allowing it to be brought to her.

'If I recall correctly you had other plans instead of eating,' Hermione responds. 'Do you mind? I am almost halfway through and I'd like to finish it before I go to sleep.'

'Halfway through?' he asks and he glares at the book. 'Show me where you are exactly.'

And he hands her the book back. She folds it open where she is and continues reading, instead of showing him. So he snatches it away again with increasing suspicion. Hermione is not stupid enough to just fail to follow his directives over something meaningless. She will oppose him only over important matters, not something this frivolous. He gazes into the girl's eyes and she seems rather annoyed with him at the moment. Annoyance… oh dear, this can become highly problematic. And he looks at the page number, before handing the book back to her. She reacts as obsessive as he was afraid of and starts reading immediately again. He waits for her to flip a leave and he, immediately, snatches the book away again. A sigh reaches his ears, while he looks at the stupid page again. As he thought, this will become problematic at best.

'You're still on the same page,' he says, showing her the book. She reaches out, but he pulls it away. She is not getting this one back. 'No touching, Granger. This is page 308 in the centre of the book. I recall seeing you read this book some days ago and you were already at the centre of it back then. Now, you just flipped a page and you're still on page 308. I think we may have a bit of a situation here that needs resolving.'

'What are you going on about? I learnt so much more about Everon Jewellery today that I haven't read yesterday. I can't be on the same page.'

Hermione tries to snatch the book away from him, but he holds it out of her reach immediately, raising his eyebrows. 'And you're acting rather peculiar around it,' he adds thoughtfully, 'somewhat obsessive even.'

His hand takes a hold of the necklace around her neck and he stares at the Amulet. 'Does it glow more while you read, Hermione?'

She shrugs. He can tell she thinks this is an utterly useless conversation.

'I think we better keep this book away from you,' he decides, folding his arms over each other. Waiting to see the, no doubt, aggravated responds. He is not disappointed.

Granger jumps to her feet in fury. 'No, are you crazy? We can't. It will contain all the answers we seek!'

'All the answers?' Voldemort says amused, but his hand has already found his wand and he is eyeing Hermione carefully. 'How do you know that, if you haven't read it yet?'

'I just know it does. It feels that way. I can learn it all in there,' she rants almost feverish.

Lord Voldemort looks back at the book in his hands. But he takes a step back when Hermione steps forward upon noticing the book. Calmly, he shakes his head. 'This book is feeding you an illusion, Hermione.'

'Give it back,' she hisses. 'I need to read it.'

Problematic and potentially dangerous, he adds in his mind. Damn, why hadn't he looked at this blasted Elf Book first? He keeps both of his eyes now firmly on the little witch before him. And it doesn't take Leglimency to understand, she is currently considering that she can read this book if he isn't around anymore. She has quite the murderous expression on her face. This is becoming too risky. She is too far gone for the gentle approach. He tosses the book on the floor.

'Incendio!'

Hermione lets out a dying, gruesome scream and runs to the flames, but he swirls his arms around her and holds her tight. However, the heel of her shoe comes into painful contact with his shin and he almost lets go of the struggling witch. Something, he cannot afford to do, because she can still salvage the book if she touches it through the flames. The flames will in turn burn her instead of the book. He has seen it happen to a wizard a long, long time ago. The wizard, happily, burned to crisp, while holding another magically addictive book in his hands and it remained in pristine condition. Voldemort had found it a very useful book at the time and made sure to drop it off in some muggle library.

'Don't, Hermione,' he says surprised at her strength at the moment. He is barely able to hold on to her wrists, while they plummet to the floor. 'Listen to me, Hermione. You have become addicted to that book. It tries to keep you reading it, until the day you die.'

But it is no use, she is not hearing him and when he feels her attempting to draw on their magic, he immobilises her body with it. He can hear her scream inside his head and he is certain she is in great need and dire pain, but he is not letting go. Instead he lifts her up in his arms and takes her to the living room, making certain to ward the study thoroughly. He holds her tightly until she finally falls asleep and he lets go to check if the book has been thoroughly disposed of. Only ashes remain in the study, but he is not fooled by that act. He has seen how ashes can reassemble themselves, so he uses a powerful curse to obliterate it completely, since he is not convinced a mere Scouring Charm will be efficient enough when magic such as this is involved. When he is satisfied there is no more threat he leaves for the kitchens. On his way to kill the House-elf, he placed in charge of getting her the books, for endangering Granger like this.

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The Bittersweet Taste of Victory